


Steve and Bucky Get a Dog

by clokkerfoot (orphan_account)



Series: Stevebucky domesticity series [3]
Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Dogs, Domestic, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Romantic Friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2015-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-09 03:11:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5523230
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/clokkerfoot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Exactly what it says on the tin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Steve and Bucky Get a Dog

“I’m just _sayin’_ , Steve--”

Steve huffed and jammed the key into the lock far harder than he needed to, “I _don’t_ need to get some. Christ, if I wanted that I would’ve picked you up _months_ ago.”

Bucky snorted and followed Steve into the house, watching his shoulders relax almost imperceptibly when he stepped over the threshold, “As if you coulda had me, Rogers.”

“I had you back in the day.”

Bucky conceded and nodded, “Guess ya did. Glad we don’t do that now.”

“So much effort,” Steve agreed. He set the paper bags - he specifically took brown paper bags to the ‘grocers with him, just to keep some things the same, no matter how often Bucky called him a fucking loser for it - down on the counter beside the refrigerator, and loaded the plastic packages of berries into the top shelf as he spoke, “I remember you used to brush your teeth every time you thought we were gonna have sex. Or kiss.”

“I’m a gentleman!” Bucky whined, grabbing a banana from the paper bag on the end of the counter, “I din’t want my breath putting you off,” Bucky swept around to Steve’s side and kissed him on the cheek, “And I’m glad my breath doesn’t bother you nowadays, ya damn punk.”

Steve laughed, hardly moving into Bucky’s touch, his gaze focused on the veg in front of him. Bucky rolled his eyes and peeled the banana, dropping the skin into the garbage can next to the refrigerator. The bananas tasted absolutely _disgusting_ , and nothing like the bananas he and Steve were used to, but Bucky was forcing himself to enjoy them.

“Want a banana?” Steve said absently. He was loading cans of soup into the lowest cupboard beside the refrigerator now.

“Already got one.”

“Mm.”

Bucky watched Steve for a moment longer, absently chewing a mouthful of banana mush. Steve was completely engrossed in tidying away the groceries, so he didn’t notice when Bucky ducked out of the kitchen and wandered down the hallway to his room.

He dropped into his own room for a moment to kick his boots off, leaving them in a pile of loose laces at the end of his bed. After hanging his jacket up on the hook on the back of the door, he ducked back out into the hall and went down to Steve’s room.

Steve had started another pencil sketch on the easel in front of the window. He worked on paper mostly, and usually had a roll of the stuff thrown over the top of the easel, but today he had a real canvas on the stand. There was a soft pencil in the tray beneath it, and the wastepaper basket beside it was filled with shavings from the sharpener. The sketch was of the view from the window. Bucky compared the sketch with the real thing, his eyes flicking back and forth as he finished his banana, and _fuck,_ Steve was a good artist.

A quiet sound and a shuffle of movement from behind Bucky snapped him right out of his happy, blissful mood. He span around, fingers automatically going for the foldaway knife in the pocket of his jeans, and it wasn’t until the knife was open that Bucky realised what had made the noise.

He called Steve’s name.

Steve ambled down the corridor, his hands wrapped up in a dishcloth, “What’s up, Buck?”

He must’ve seen the knife, because he dropped the dishcloth on the floor and lowered his stance slightly, his footsteps falling silent almost immediately.

Bucky straightened up, realising a second too late that he was in a defensive stance and that was _probably_ freaking Steve out a bit. Steve straightened his legs and peered around the doorframe. His eyes widened, and Bucky knew exactly what that look in his eyes meant.

“Why’s there a dog on my bed?” Steve asked, his voice soft and quiet.

The dog in question - a small bundle of wiry golden fur with black eyes and a damp nose - barked suddenly at Steve’s entrance into the room. It wasn’t even a _bark,_ really. It was a pathetic little _boof!_ sound.

Steve shushed the dog in a voice usually reserved for little kids, and dropped to his knees beside the bed. The dog yipped again, its ears twitching, and it bounced back onto its hind legs for half a second.

Its front left leg was missing.

“Aw, Buck, she’s like you!” Steve cooed, his voice absolutely dripping with adoration as the dog fell back onto the quilt, then bounded straight over to Steve. It looked like it couldn’t decide whether to bite Steve’s nose or piss itself with excitement.

“She?”

“Dontcha think she’s a girl?” Steve asked. He had his hand out now, and the dog’s little tail was wagging furiously, its ears flat against its head. Bucky worried for Steve’s sheets.

“Wouldn’t know,” Bucky admitted. He’d never really liked dogs, and Steve knew it, “I’m gonna go see how… _she_ got in.”

Steve nodded. Bucky walked around the house, checking the windows in all the rooms. Every single one was closed. The dog hadn’t followed them through the door, and they’d definitely locked up (Steve always double-checked the lock, and then Bucky checked it again) so how had the damn thing gotten in?

He rattled the latch of the bathroom window again, then headed back to Steve’s room.

Steve was lying on his bed with the dog on his stomach, snorting into his fist, his shirt pushed up to his chest. The dog was nosing at Steve’s bare stomach, happily licking his navel.

“Steve?”

“B-Buck, you gotta try this!” Steve said, laughter finally bubbling out from his chest, and if Bucky hadn’t been so bewildered he would’ve _cried_ at that adorable, innocent sound, “Peggy’s friendly!”

Bucky stared for a moment. _Peggy?_

“You’ve named it?” he asked, incredulously, “You’ve named the random dog that wandered into our house after your ex-girlfriend? Have y’finally lost the plot, Rogers?”

“Oh, don’t be such a killjoy,” Steve complained. He grabbed the dog - _Peggy_ , apparently - and cuddled her tight against his chest, “She’s so _sweet._ ”

“ _You’re_ sweet. This dog is… an _invader_.”

Steve laughed, “God, you haven’t changed. Why are you so against dogs?”

“I’m not _against_ dogs, I just--”

“You are _so_ against dogs,” Steve released Peggy and kicked his legs over the bed. He stood up and advanced on Bucky, prodding his forefinger into the middle of Bucky’s chest, “When the Howling Commandos looked after that dog in France you hated it - remember, the little yappy thing that ate your rations?”

Bucky grimaced, remembering the hunger pains, “And you wonder why I don’t like dogs.”

Steve’s expression went blank for a second, “Maybe that wasn’t the best example.”

Bucky nodded, trying not to smile at Steve’s stupid face, “We can’t keep it, Stevie. We couldn’t even look after a dog for a weekend. She needs putting in a shelter, or giving to Clint. Someone else who _won’t_ accidentally kill her.”

And then Steve looked up at Bucky with his big, dumb, sad eyes, and--

“Fuck. _Fine_.”

-

“You’re walking Peggy tonight,” Bucky grumbled. He was cooking dinner for him, Steve and Nat, who was coming over for pasta at six, and Steve was trying to persuade Bucky to come out for a walk with him and Peggy, “She’s your dog.”

“She’s _our_ dog, jerk.”

“Nat’s going to be here any minute. I’m sure Peg Leg can wait thirty minutes for a walk.”

Steve opened his mouth to protest Bucky’s use of the nickname ‘Peg Leg’ but, as if on cue, there was a knock at the door. Peggy started leaping around excitedly, falling on her ass between each bark. In the two weeks since Bucky and Steve had reluctantly adopted her, she hadn’t yet learned how to bark without getting too enthusiastic and falling over. She seemed to forget that she was missing a leg.

“Come in, Nat!” Steve called, not entirely enthusiastically, but Natasha was already opening the door.

“Evening, Steve,” she said amicably as she kicked off her boots and left them - to Steve’s obvious dismay - in a pile right beside the shoe rack, “ _Dobryy vecher_ , Bucky.”

Bucky waved the wooden spoon in her general direction as he tipped herbs into the sauce, “ _Dobryy vecher_ , Natalia. How was the walk here?”

“Cold. And so’s this house. Don’t you two ever put the heating on?”

“No,” Steve and Bucky answered in unison. Bucky could feel Steve’s eyes on his back, but he continued to tend to the pasta.

“Oh, hey, Buchanan!” Nat exclaimed suddenly.

Bucky turned at the sound of his middle name, and was surprised to see that Nat was knelt on the floor, stroking Peggy. Peggy was whining happily, her little tail wagging furiously, and Nat was actually allowing her to lick her face.

“Buchanan?” Steve asked before Bucky could.

“The dog,” Nat explained, rubbing behind Peggy’s ears, “This is Buchanan. I’m glad you decided to keep him. I didn’t think you two could deal with the responsibility of a dog, but he’s not dead yet.”

Bucky dropped the spoon into the pasta sauce and turned to stare at Steve.

“You gave us Peggy?” Bucky asked, slowly.

“Aw, you renamed him? I liked Buchanan.”

“Nat. Why did you leave a dog on my bed?” Steve asked, “Why didn’t you tell me? We thought she’d broken in.”

“She?” Nat laughed, “He’s a boy. And I left a note with him.”

Bucky shrugged, “There was no note.”

Nat shrugged, too, “He must’ve eaten it. He always eats more than his share. Lucky and Kate hardly got a glance in, and they were the _big_ dogs,” at Bucky’s confused expression, Nat explained, “Lucky is Clint’s dog. Kate is the bitch Lucky was hired to impregnate. She had way too many pups, and this one here was going to be sent to a shelter. I thought you two would like him.”

Bucky exhaled and turned back to his pasta, waiting for Steve to start stammering his thanks. Of _course_ Nat gave them the dog. Bucky was stupid to think that tiny bundle of fluff could’ve gotten in through a window.

Steve finally spoke. He was damn lucky Bucky loved him, or there would’ve been tomato sauce in his hair within three seconds of the words leaving his mouth.

“Can you warn us next time you give us a dog, Nat?”

**Author's Note:**

> Written quickly to kill some time, so sorry if it sucks.


End file.
